


Every Moment of It

by QuintessenceA



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Ecto-Genitalia (Undertale), Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Undertale Skeletons in Heat, Unethical Experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27638849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuintessenceA/pseuds/QuintessenceA
Summary: Checklist.Experimentation AU? Check.Evil Gaster? Check.Traumatized Test Subject? CheckForced Heat? Check.This next experiment will be very, very interesting.S01 hates the Doctor so, so much.
Relationships: W. D. Gaster/Sans
Comments: 5
Kudos: 40





	Every Moment of It

**Author's Note:**

> From Twitter, this tweet kicked me in the horny, and ahh, I ran with it as another excuse to hurt Sans. I love him so much. Thanks for the Sanster ideas, K8Maybe! :D
> 
> twitter.com/K8Maybe/status/1319218913096454147
> 
> (I'll add better tags when I think of them, uhh, idek)

Hot, he's so hot. It keeps coming in waves, washing over him in bright surges.

S01 sits in the corner of his cell, pressing his back into the relative coolness of the wall. He can't stop panting, every breath drawing in cool only to expel as pure heat. His magic is roiling in his bones, leaving light little traces of damp magic wherever his joints make contact with the wall. For some reason, the concentration is highest in his pelvis and mouth. This is new, something so completely new that he's certain it has to be one of the Doctor's experiments.

Twisting slightly, he tries to press his bones to a fresh section, leaning his forehead against the dull surface. It does little to cool him, but little is all he has.

He looks up as the door to his cell opens and the Doctor steps inside. He watches the Doctor's eyes land on his green smock, discarded in the corner, and he looks curious as he walks over to it. When the Doctor nudges it with his foot, it makes a small wet sound against the floor, thoroughly saturated with S01's magic. 

The Doctor smiles.

Stars, how S01 hates that particular smile. He's planning something and it's not going to be pleasant. What is it this time? More bone saws? More soul manipulation? Maybe he just wants to use his body again.

"S01?" The Doctor calls out. "How are you feeling?"

He doesn't answer. It should be obvious. He's huddled, sweating and miserable in the corner. What's even the point of asking?

Another flash of heat seems to pulse from his soul and he loses his train of thought, putting his head back against the wall. So hot. 

"You're sweating. Tell me, S01, do you feel anything… unusual?" The Doctor inquires, leaning over him as he gently reaches to brush the back of his fingers against the side of S01's skull.

When he feels the Doctor's fingers against him he leans into it. He always hated the Doctor's cold fingers, uncomfortable and nothing but brutally efficient… but today…

The chill of his hand feels so good. S01 turns his head to rub his jaw against it, sighing with contentment as he enjoys the touch.

Only for his eyes to snap open as he realizes what he's doing. 

This was the Doctor. The one who hurts him and touches him far, far too much.

S01 pulls back, but he's already in the corner and there's nowhere else to go. The Doctor chuckles lowly, moving to stroke the top of S01's skull instead. 

"There's no use fighting it," the Doctor says as S01 unsuccessfully tries to duck out of his reach.

"F-fighting what?" S01 asks, watching him from the corner of his eyes. His breathing was too heavy, every breath seemed to burn as he exhaled and he can't stop the way it made his chest heave unevenly.

"The heat, of course."

The problem has a name. Heat. It was his fault. Of course it was.

"What did you do to me?"

"Oh? Do you think I did this?" The Doctor's smile grows, but he doesn't outright deny it. "Heat cycles are a natural phenomenon, although the symptoms can be quite difficult to manage alone."

"How- how do I fix it?" S01 asks, looking into the Doctor's eyes. He has to see how miserable this is making him. That can't possibly be the point, can it?

"Poor thing," the Doctor says, reaching down to cup S01's face in both hands. He leans down, and for a wild moment S01 thinks he's going to kiss his forehead. 

~~He wants it.~~

He closes his eyes, shivering despite the heat. A breathy sound is pulled out of him as the Doctor's thumbs gently brush across his zygomatic arches. 

He doesn't want the Doctor to touch him like that.

It feels so good.

The Doctor's hands slide down to rest on his shoulders, thumbs moving to drift along his clavicles. S01 gives a shuddering breath, lifting his chin, although he doesn't know if he's pulling away or simply giving the Doctor more room to touch him.

The hands fall further, sliding down his arms to grip his humeri. With a care that the doctor rarely shows he's pulled to his feet. His legs wobble unsteadily.

"Don't…" he pleads. 

"Don't what?" The Doctor asks, his voice warm with indulgence. 

" _Don't,_ " he repeats a little more fervently.

"Now, now. No need to be so skiddish," The Doctor says, rubbing his thumbs in little circles against S01's arms. "Let's go get you an ice pack, hmm? Doesn't that sound nice?"

It really does, which makes it immediately suspect. He can feel magic beading on his skull, dripping uncomfortably down his spine. Instead of responding he tries to pull back again, preferring the impartial comfort of the wall over whatever 'help' the Doctor wants to offer.

The Doctor's smile grows tight at the edges, but he lets go, allowing S01 to sink back to the ground. 

"Come now, you need to be taken care of before it becomes truly dangerous."

The way he says it makes S01 look up at him with new concern. "Dangerous?"

"That's what I said. Regular monsters rarely die from heat, but with your stats it is entirely possible."

S01 can tell that he isn't lying, though it wasn't the whole truth, either. But this could kill him, that much is clear.

"You... you just want me to die," he whispers, his voice hoarse.

"I don't want you to die, S01," The Doctor answers with a shake of his head. "You're being ridiculous. Fine then, we'll just do this here." He kneels down, resting on his heels as he reaches forward to stroke his fingers across the top of S01's skull. "Tell me how you feel. Hot? Touch sensitive? Is your magic overreacting?"

The Doctor continues to pet his skull, and S01 starts to shudder. "S-stop..." He begs, squirming under the touch.

"Tell me how you feel," the Doctor demands, reaching out with his other hand to grip his patella, the warning clear even as his fingers start to press harder against his skull. His bones are hot, sensitive to the contact. 

The Doctor won't let him remain silent.

"Hot," S01 whimpers, and the Doctor's hold loosens. "It- it h-hurts..."

"Does it really?" The Doctor asks, and the hand resting on his patella slides to his femur. "If it's painful for you, we can make it stop. You might even enjoy it."

S01 doubts that, even as magic thrills through his body at the contact, a dull pulsing starting in his pubic symphysis.

"I don't want to," he says quietly.

"Of course not. But if you don't, the heat will continue. Just say the word." His voice is calming, promising, and the tone of it makes his Soul pulse with.. something.

Something he doesn't want to admit.

"I d-don't want to..." He says again. The Doctor has to feel how hard he's shaking.

"Alright," The Doctor says, letting go of his leg and pulling back. He can't help the way he leans into the space where the hand had been on his skull, but the Doctor only pulls back further. "Then I suppose that will be all for now."

The Doctor turns to walk away, and S01 finds himself shrinking back and trying to burrow into the corner. He has to, or he might reach out. The ghost of the Doctor's touch lingers on him. Everything burns.

"You're not going to...?" S01 asks, confused at the Doctor's restraint. It couldn't be this easy. The Doctor turns, eyebrow raised in a silent question. S01 gulps, changing his question. "To... help me? You said this could be dangerous..."

"I did," the Doctor says. "But it seems you've made your choice."

Since when did his choice matter to the Doctor? Since when did the Doctor care at all about what S01 wanted? He feels a twinge in his chest, as memories come, unbidden, of the Doctor holding him down, forcing himself into him, making him scream. His breath hitches as arousal spikes through him, something inside telling him that, yes, he wants that.

No, that's wrong. That's so wrong. He never wants that. He tries to block out the memories but it only gets worse as the Doctor continues to stare down at him, waiting.

He's afraid. He's afraid of wanting that.

"Please," he begs. "Don't hurt me..."

The Doctor smiles, but it's not comforting. "My dear S01, why would I hurt you?"

More magic, from fear and heat both, drips down his skull as he shakes his head, and the Doctor smiles wider.

"Come now," he says, "don't you trust me?"

The way he asks the question is mocking, as though the idea is inherently hilarious to him.

"I... no..." he admits, as the heat tells him to just give in.

"Ah," the Doctor says. "Then it seems we have a problem. Do you want to stay here and live with the intensity of your heat, which will get worse, I promise you, or do you want me to stay and help you?"

Worse?

"Want?" S01 whimpers, turning his face to press his forehead against the (no longer cool) wall. Why is he giving him a choice?

"You'll need to answer in words, my dear S01," the Doctor says. "And you'll need to look at me for that."

Is he really that cruel? He must be. But he's not advancing. He's not doing anything but letting S01 choose for himself. Wasn't that what S01 wanted? The ability to make a choice for himself, to control something? 

It's not even hard, the choice between more pain or less pain and all he has to do is answer the Doctor's question. And here he is, whining and whimpering as he tries to avoid his gaze.

Pathetic. He knows he is.

He raises his head, and looks at the Doctor towering over him. "I… I don't know..." He says miserably.

"Well," the Doctor says, his disappointment clear. "Then I can't help you."

He turns to leave, and S01 reaches out, snagging his lab coat. He doesn't know why he did it.

The Doctor turns back, eyebrows raised.

"Wh- what can you learn from this? From this h-heat? From my s-suffering?" S01 asks, struggling to get the words out. 

The Doctor takes a moment to answer, considering him. S01 didn't want to imagine what he looks like right now. Naked. Shaking. Gripping the Doctor's coat like his life depended on it. Hints of blue magic seeps from the joints of his fingers, marring the perfect white of the fabric.

"Think of it as a learning experience," the Doctor says finally. "You'll get stronger from this. That pain will fade, and you'll be able to handle far more than you think you can now. Isn't that worth it?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, instead turning to walk away again, but S01 doesn't let go of his coat.

"A-are you leaving me like this?" He asks, looking up at him anxiously. "What about this... feeling?"

"I'm a very busy monster. If you don't want help to clear the heat you'll simply have to deal with the consequences." He sighs, shaking his head slightly. "I'm only trying to help you."

He sounds so sincere, and that hurts in a whole different way. 

"Can… Can you…" He asks, his voice shrinking with every word. He swallows hard around a lump in his throat."Help me make it stop?"

The Doctor's smile is distinctly predatory as he reaches into his pocket. "I have something here that should help you feel better."

He pulls out two small objects. One is a silver egg, dangling from a loop. The other seems to be some sort of remote with a single button. Whatever they are, the bastard had them ready. 

Is he really that hopeless and predictable that the Doctor already knew he'd give in? He doesn't care. He wants this to end.

"What are they?" His voice shakes as he lets go of the Doctor's coat, accepting the small devices. 

"A gift. If you can make yourself feel good, the heat will go away." The Doctor answers in a way that explains nothing.

"I don't get it." S01 says, turning the egg over in his hands.

"It's a vibrating, self stimulation toy," he explains. "Turn it on, and press it against where you are most sensitive."

Sensitive? 

S01 can feel his face grow even hotter, certain he's glowing like a blue signal fire, and the Doctor's chuckle only makes it worse.

"I don't... do that..." He answers.

"You haven't had the need until now, but I promise you, it's quite pleasant." The Doctor says, his voice oddly encouraging. "Try it."

Hesitantly S01 presses the egg to his chest. It's cool, and the metal feels good, but nothing more. He looks at the Doctor again, confused.

"I said you need to turn it on. Press the button."

He does, it immediately begins vibrating. It reverberates through him, sending a not quite unpleasant buzzing through his bones. It's a distraction from the heat, at least.

"Do you feel anything?" The Doctor asks.

He lifts it from his chest, looking at the small, vibrating toy as he considers the question. It's strange, but he's not sure what the point is supposed to be. He answers the Doctor with a shake of his head. 

"Try moving it."

S01 presses the toy against himself again but moves it slightly. It's a whole new form of stimulation when it moves, and he inhales sharply at the pleasurable rush that seems to vibrate though his very Soul. Closing his eyes, he uses it to caress his sternum, hoping it will help.

"And now?" The Doctor asks, his voice strangely soft. With his eyes closed it's too easy to imagine the Doctor holding the toy against him, and the thought makes his face burn with shame even as the magic in his pelvis reacts with a twinge of want.

"It... feels weird," S01 says, trying not to squirm.

"Try moving it around, see what feels good," The Doctor says. "Surely there's somewhere better to rub it than your chest? Like where your magic is gathering?"

S01's pelvis, he means. His magic gives a hot throb as he thinks of it, of putting the stimulation against his most sensitive bones.

As the Doctor watches.

"I- I don't want to," he says, turning his face away.

"Don't lie to me, S01. I can see that you do," the Doctor says and his voice turns interested. "Perhaps… you want me to help you?"

S01 feels him reach out, running a hand lightly down his spine. His breath catches for a moment before he deliberately pulls away.

"No, I- I can," he says, pulling his knees up to his chest, and wedging himself deeper into the corner. "I want to do it myself."

"As you wish," the Doctor replies, stepping back.

S01 doesn't look at him as he moves the toy lower, pressing it against his lower spine. The entire thing stiffens in response, and he lets out a soft hiss. His sockets flutter slightly as he slowly moves the toy up and down along his tender vertebra. He moves it lower, lower. When he's almost touching his sacrum, he pauses. The Doctor was still watching.

"Problem?" The Doctor asks, and he shakes his head.

He swallows nervously, before pressing the vibrator against his sacrum. It makes his whole body jolt, the sensation unlike anything he's ever felt, and he lets out a soft moan. He presses it against himself again. He can't stop himself from letting out a shuddering groan as it nestles against one of the holes of his sacral foramen, and his whole lower region twitches.

It's good. It's so good. He begins rubbing it in slow circles, closing his eyes and squirming as he gently presses it against himself. There's a soft crackle as his magic tries to take shape. His jaw hangs open slightly as he breathes faster, aching for air. 

"You're doing so well," the Doctor breathes from above him. 

He flushes deeply, staring at the ground to avoid his avid gaze. It's not exactly easy to ignore the Doctor, but S01 tries. He rolls his hips, rubbing himself against the ground as he presses the toy harder against his backside. His magic is wet in his pelvic cradle, and he can feel it dripping onto the floor as he trembles with pleasure.

"O-oh..." He moans, his whole body quaking. A feeling is growing, a pressure, and it's all he can think about. His other hand twitches fretfully as he rubs his pubic symphysis against the ground, taking short, shuddering breaths. 

When he brings to toy down to touch his coccyx he locks up with a harsh intake of breath as he cums. His eyes see nothing but black. He can't feel anything but pleasure running through him, washing away the heat and leaving him shaking in its wake.

He feels his chest jerk, his legs twitching, as he lets out a short, pained moan. There's a clatter of sound as the toy vibrates against the ground, dropped and forgotten.

"Shh, shh, shh," the Doctor says. His tone is teasing. He knows he's won. 

S01 is too spent to do anything but flinch slightly as the Doctor leans in, but he only reaches down to pick up the toy, inspecting the residue left behind. Shame, sharp and biting, cuts his Soul as he sees the bright smear of glistening blue slick on the egg. 

"Done already?" The Doctor asks. "My, my, we'll have to work on that stamina of yours."

For a moment S01 doesn't reply, still trying to get his breathing under control as he curls in on himself. _I hate you,_ he thinks to himself, _I really hate you._

Out loud, he asks, "Are... are we done? Is it over?" The heat is still there, but it's less intense than it was before.

"For the time being," the Doctor says. "You should be able to walk now. I will be taking this with me."

The Doctor holds out the toy for him to see, jiggling it slightly on its loop.

"If this… isn't over, won't I need it again?" He asks.

"Not any time soon," the Doctor says, pocketing the toy and kneeling down again. "This was just to check that things were working properly."

Again, he grabs S01 by his arms, and, just as carefully as before, lifts him to his feet. 

"Good. I have some tests to run. Follow me."

As he lets go of the smaller monster's arms, S01 finds he wants nothing more than to drop back to the ground. He remains standing. He knows better than that. 

"What kind of tests?"

The Doctor sighs heavily, like S01 has disappointed him greatly. Despite everything, it hurts. 

"The standard kinds. Temperature readings, of course," the Doctor says, counting off on his fingers. "Measurements of your magic's viscosity and luminosity, among other things. Your eyelights are notably diffuse, so we'll want to take readings of those as well. Shall I go on?"

S01 shakes his head, flinching under the Doctor's disapproval.

"Follow me."

It wasn't a request, and the tone of his voice says that S01 is riding the edge of his limited patience. Then the Doctor turns, leaving the little cell, and there is nothing S01 can do but follow him.

The air of the corridor is significantly cooler than the cell. It feels nice, but he was still too warm. He looks down at his toes, at the bright glow of magic making his bare feet feel slick against the tiled floor. Behind them, his footsteps led back to the still open door of his cell.

"Keep up."

The walk isn't far, as the Doctor leads him into one of the routine examination rooms. S01 follows him inside, swiftly climbing to lay on the table as the Doctor moves to bring over a tray full of tools and empty sample vials. Nothing too unusual, and S01 tries to hold still as the Doctor checkes his temperature before placing an ice pack on his forehead.

He wasn't actually expecting to receive one, and it feels amazing. S01 tries to let his focus shrink to only the blissful, cooling comfort of the ice pack as the Doctor continues on, taking test swabs of his magic from different joints.

But the brief respite he gains from the ice pack was quickly overridden as, with every clinical touch, his body warmed. It didn't stand a chance, melting as S01's temperature rose and rose.

"Your tongue," the Doctor commands as he removes the spent cold pack, and S01 focuses on summoning the construct. Magic rushes to obey, ready to form anything and everything. He nearly chokes as magic fills his mouth like saliva, far easier and quicker than expected. At the last moment he reigns it back, allowing it to only solidify as a tongue even as it continues to swirl around his ribs and pelvic inlet. 

He has to keep it under control. Doubtless, the Doctor would not appreciate seeing S01's magic manifest during a testing procedure. If the Doctor wants him to summon more, he would be told. When the mood struck, the doctor never shied away from making his claim upon S01's body, but he always, _always_ ordered it.

Doing his best to ignore his restless magic, S01 parts his teeth. Calipers in one hand, the doctor reaches out with his other to firmly grip S01's tongue, drawing it out.

S01 shudders at the contact, fighting to draw in a deep breath to stop himself from moaning. Then a slight pinch of the cold metal calipers had him doing it again. His magic is roiling again, and he can feel it making the table slick under his hands.

"You're doing very good," the Doctor says warmly as he releases S01's tongue. 

At the words, a hot flush of endorphins strike him like a bell, and he was nearly left gasping at the results. He's so distracted that he startles when the Doctor puts his palm flat against his sternum, but when S01 looks he's only checking his watch. 

The doctor was just measuring his pulse rate, he knows, but the longer the hand remained in place, the hotter it feels. His magic is still in turmoil, and he tries to keep it restrained, but it sparks inside him, as if called to the Doctor's hand. His bones feel like they're almost burning where he was being touched. 

The feeling only grows as the seconds pass, causing his breath to stutter in his ribs, though it never becomes true pain. Just an unrelenting, barely tolerable heat. He wants to squirm but forces himself still.

How long was the doctor timing this for?

He can't help as his chest begins to heave under the doctor's hand. It's so much, that still, constant pressure. Stars he wants…

He wants.

Risking another glance at the Doctor, S01 can see that he was smiling. Not fully, but the corners of his mouth are tight and upturned. Amused.

Why? He must know the reaction he was causing, but what was the point? And the magic that he has been trying so hard to suppress was beginning to drift up in smoky wisps, brushing against the Doctor's immovable hand. 

"Are you alright?" The Doctor asks, his smile growing. 

There's no concern in his voice, only smug satisfaction and curious approval. S01 sucks a breath through his teeth, unable to answer as the Doctor's gaze roams to his pelvis, where his magic was most thickly gathered. 

Suddenly, S01 realizes he'd been wrong. The Doctor does want him to summon something more. This is just another part of his experiment, making S01 do it himself. Vengeful spite makes him set his teeth, redoubling his efforts to hold himself back. It isn't true defiance, as he isn't disobeying any orders, but it's edging close to the line. The wispy trails slowly pull back, resisting his efforts but unable to compete with his sudden determination.

Rather than commenting on the change, the Doctor moves his hand.

Only he doesn't pull it away, he rubs softly at S01's sternum, his fingers ghosting across the bone.

"Ahh-!" S01 yelps, quickly biting off the sound even as his magic reacts, surging to even greater life within him. It burns, demanding. _Wanting._

It's as bad as it was in the cell, worse even, with his tongue summoned every scent is more powerful, and he can taste his own magic. 

"Oh?"

S01 feels hyper aware of the hand against his chest. The light pressure of his fingers. The touch feels good. ~~He wants to be stroked.~~ He hates it.

"S01? Are you alright?" the Doctor asks.

His voice is so caring. Why does the Doctor mock him?  
S01 stays silent. Not trusting his voice, 01 only shook his head.

"I can help you. You know that, don't you?"

Maybe… there was something else?

"C-can I have the toy back?" He asks. He hates that he even asks.

"No," the Doctor says. 

Of course he does. S01 knew he wasn't getting out of this that easily. 

"At this point," the Doctor continues, as he gently rubs his fingers up and down S01's sternum. "Only the touch of another will help you."

S01 bites his tongue. Even that feels good in a twisted sort of way. Heat pulses through him, concentrated where the Doctor is touching him. He can't answer. He can't say it. He won't ask the Doctor for that.

"I need you to trust me, S01. I do care about you."

It's not true. It can't be. Why would the doctor torture him if he cared?

He says nothing, staring fixedly at the ceiling. His breathing is funny, and it feels like he can't get a full breath. The heat. The Doctor's done this to him. 

"I need to know. Do you want my help?"

He hates the doctor. He doesn't want his help. But it hurts.

He nods slowly. 

"Then tell me how you feel, S01. Tell me what you want."

He wants the pain to stop. He wants his heat to end. He wants to go back to his cell. Most of all, he wants the Doctor to touch him more. But he can't say it. He'll never beg for that. 

He lets out a small, helpless whimper instead. S01 hates him so much. 

"How does this feel?"

His other hand gently touches S01's neck. His thumb caresses his jaw and S01 closes his eyes tightly, shaking with how much he wants that. How much he wants more.

He feels disgusting. He feels how the heat is forcing desire for the Doctor into his mind. It feels violating. If only he could just get away.

"Awful... it feels awful," he lies.

The Doctor has to know. Surely the Doctor sees the way he squeezes his eyes shut and grips the table to keep from reaching out. 

"What did you do to me?" he asks.

"You know what's wrong with you, S01," the Doctor says as the hand teases across his chest again. He can feel the moisture between his legs as his magic tries to condense. It feels disgusting. No. He does not want this. But the Doctor does. And the Doctor always wins.

"Your stubbornness does you no favors. How does it feel, S01?"

"It feels... wrong," he says.

The Doctor sounds amused as he says, "Tell me more."

He hates the Doctor so much. 

He needs to be touched more. His chest heaves against the Doctor's hand on his bare chest, his breath shuddering past the Doctors fingers against his throat. His Soul pulses, and he can feel the wetness pooling between his legs. He hates it so much. He's hated every moment of this since he woke up today feeling just too warm.

"Let me tell you what it feels like," the Doctor said, bringing his head down to whisper against S01's head. "It feels like lust."

"Lust?"

The word is like venom on his tongue. He wants to spit it out.

"Yes," the Doctor says, his voice hot against S01's skull. "Lust…"

The Doctor rubs again, rubbing back and forth once, then twice, as S01 renews his grip on the sides of the table in a desperate effort to hold himself still. On the third pass, there's a press of wet warmth against his face as the Doctor slowly licks at the corner of his jaw.

S01's plans of not-quite-disobedience fail as his magic slips past his control, snapping into place between his legs as he lets out a cry.

"Can't help it, can you?" The Doctor asks, and the approval in his question makes S01's head spin. "You're such a dutiful subject, S01. Let us continue."

S01's mind is a mess of conflicting thoughts and desires. He hates the doctor so much, but right now he is his entire world. He hates himself for being so weak, for desiring his abuser so much.

As if summoning the construct was the first pebble of a rockslide, the rest of S01's defenses begin to crumble. His world narrows to the feel of the Doctors hand on him. The way his fingertips turn, teasing into the intercostal spaces and he can't stop himself turning further into the touch.

And then the Doctor does something truly cruel.

He stops moving, and lifts his hand. Just enough to break contact.

His hand stays right there, barely an inch from S01's chest. He arches up, wanting, needing the touch. The Doctor only pulls his hand back a little more. 

"D-Doctor..." he says reluctantly. There's a note of genuine pleading in his voice.

"Yes? Do you need something?"

S01 can't hold himself back. The willpower the held back the urges of his mind and body are failing. He's going to do it, he's going to touch him back.

Releasing the table, S01 lets out a shuddering breath, then gently touches the Doctor's hand with his own.

He just can't help it. It's not fair. The doctor makes him feel this way. 

The Doctor looks at his hand in surprise as S01 suddenly grips it tightly, dragging it back down against his chest. When the contact is restored, S01 gives a short, breathy moan.

"Participating?" he asks. "I'm surprised."

"I can't… help it," S01 whispers, hoping he's too quiet to be heard. "I just..." 

He feels tears threatening at the corners of his eyes. He hates himself so much for giving in.

"Just 'what'?" The Doctor asks. "Do you want me to touch you that much?"

"No, I don't," he says. The tears are falling now, even as he clutches at him, even as he continues to caress his chest with the other's hand. "But I need to."

It takes all of the willpower S01 has left to keep from kissing it, from bringing it to his teeth and rubbing it against his mouth.

"Need to?" the Doctor asks, a smirk playing on his lips. "I think you want to. There is a difference, you know."

The Doctor continues to tease him, his other hand slowly working down the bones of his chest, and S01 can't find it in himself to care. He keeps holding the Doctor's hand against him, his own fingers desperately hooking into the hole in the palm. Like with the toy, he can feel it now, building, only stronger. His slit is throbbing and aching, and all he wants is release.

When the other hand slips down to rub at his pubic syphysis, he arches into the touch, with a weak, needy cry. He wants to scream.

"You're such a good subject, S01," the Doctor tells him, even as he pulls his hands away from S01's pelvis.

The feeling is growing, but it's different this time, and not in a good way. He feels so empty, he needs something inside him, filling him up and breaking through this terrible feeling of need.

"Please," he begs, hating the desperation in his voice. "I need... I need something."

"What? Be specific."

The Doctor wants him to talk, but he just can't! His hands move on their own accord, grabbing at the Doctor's wrist, trying to force his hand further down and against his magic.

The Doctor leans in close, his mouth against S01's skull, nearly touching him. "Do you need my fingers, sweet thing?"

Sweet thing. 

The words strike somewhere deep in him, and something breaks.

"Yes! Please, please!" The tears stream down his face freely now, all semblance of pride stripped out of him.

"Please what?"

He doesn't want to say it. The Doctor is cruel. Would the doctor really deny him just because he won't say the words? 

"Please," he asks again, desperately. "Please touch me."

"But I am touching you," the Doctor says, softly rubbing against his bones again. It wasn't enough.

S01 sobs openly. Why? Why won't the Doctor just help him? He's already begging, wasn't that enough? Stars, can't that be enough?

"I suppose if you won't tell me what you want," The Doctor says, drawing back his hand again. "Then I'll just have to lea-"

"Inside me!" He cries, his voice a wail. "Please touch inside me!"

"Of course. All you had to do was ask."

The Doctor smiles and slips a finger inside of him. Pleasure rips through him, and nearly screams from it, feeling the buildup of pressure finally starting to ebb away.

"More!" He pants, as a second finger slips inside. It feels so good, and yet it's not enough to quell the burning hunger inside of him. "Oh..! Need more! Need..."

"Yes?"

His hands grasp at the fabric of the Doctor's coat, pulling him closer even as his mind screams at him to push the evil creature away.

But his body wants more. His body wants the Doctor. He wants to give in.

He's torn, somehow. Half of him is reveling in the feeling, but the other half is still ashamed. The ashamed part is too weak to win.

"Need you... in me," he begs. He doesn't even care anymore. Anything, anything to stop this! "I need you inside me. I need... I'm empty..."

"And you're not afraid I'll hurt you?" the Doctor asks. "I could hurt you so very easily."

S01 froze, his Soul faltering in his chest. The Doctor's eyes glitter with malice. He can't move, can't think, can't do anything but stare at the monster before him. The one who had tormented him and hurt him so much.

No, he wouldn't, not now!

"No, but-! Please! I- I'm being good!" He cries, and fear is an icy needle stabbing through his Soul even as another finger slips inside of him, taking his breath away.

"Yes, you are," the Doctor agrees. "Still…"

The fingers start to curl inside of him and he can't take it anymore. He tilts his head up, pressing his face into the Doctor's coat, his tears soaking into the fabric. 

"Please… please don't hurt me," S01 whimpers as the Doctor pulls his hand free from S01's slit. 

"Oh, but I want to hurt you." The Doctor leans in close, their faces only inches apart as he wraps an arm around S01's pelvis. "I want to hurt you so much."

He cries out as he feels the head of the doctor's cock press against him.

"Is this what you want? My magic, deep inside of you?"

"Yes!" He wails, shaking his head even as he pulls the Doctor closer. "Y- No! I don't!"

The blunt pressure eases inside of him, and then it's stretching him open. It's never felt like this before. It hurts so much, but he needs it so much more.

"You're so tight," the Doctor says with a filthy groan. "Oh my, you're really...tight. Ah, my perfect little subject..."

The words are pure pleasure. S01 fights back the urge to scream in pain, pulling desperately at the doctor's labcoat. He needs him closer. He needs him closer.

"Please," he begs, as the Doctor leans back. "Please!"  
He doesn't know what he's asking for.

"Don't worry." The Doctor chuckles darkly. "I'll give you what you need." Then he's thrusting inside of him again, leaning down once more to whisper against his skull. "So good…"

S01 can feel his mind tearing in two. He cries as he feels his body stretching to accomodate the intruding presence. There's a shock of pain, sharp and terrible, as the Doctor grips his wrist and slams it into the table and it's almost too much for him to bear, but as the Doctor grips his arm, whispering sweet, useless praise while he hilts inside him… it's impossible to focus on what hurts more.

The Doctor is doing it on purpose.

He wants to tear the doctor's eyes out. He wants to tear his own arm off. He wants to scream. He wants to die. He wants to live.

"Do you like it?" The Doctor asks, as he thrusts into him again, and then again, and again. "Do you like my fingers inside of you? Do you like my cock inside of you?"

He can't answer. He can't breathe. His body sings with the thrill of it. He can feel the tears streaming down his face, hot and wet, but he can't answer.

"You're going to take everything I have to give you," the Doctor growls. "You can't stop me."

It hurts so much he feels like he's dying. He wants to die. He wants it to be over. He doesn't want it to end. He's never felt so alive.

"Do you like how I'm splitting you open?" The Doctor asks, as S01 cries out from a particularly hard thrust. "Do you feel split in two?"

"Yes," he chokes out, as the brutal penetration continues.

"Tell me you're mine." There's a note of desperation in the Doctor's voice. "Tell me you're mine, and I'll give you what you need."

He can't. He won't. He'll never be the Doctor's. He needs to get away. He needs to escape!

As if reading his thoughts, the Doctor bears down harder, driving him into the table with the force of it. It pushes S01 to the edge, the heat insistent, building to a climax that he can feel rumbling though him like an earthquake, ready to shatter him like rock.

There's no escape for him. Closing his eyes, S01 gives up.

He stops struggling, and the Doctor takes it as submission.

"Yes," he says, as he thrusts one last time inside of him. "Yes! You're mine!"

The Doctor makes a low sound as he finishes inside of him, squeezing the smaller body still against him as S01 quietly cries. The Doctor lets go of his wrist, and leans forward, resting an arm against the table. 

He reaches over to gently stroke the side of S01's face even as he remains seated inside him. His hand is cool, soft against him, and unbearably tender. 

The heat is still there, S01 feels like he's going to implode, or fragment apart, or die in any number of horrible ways. He didn't finish, he was so close, and it's all not-

The doctor kisses him on the forehead, and it burns like a brand.

It's too much, and S01 chokes on a sob as he finally comes from that awful, loving touch. He can feel the tears sliding down his skull, and he doesn't bother to hide them.

"Good, my little S01," he says, pulling out of him and letting him go, leaving S01 alone on the table.

For the first time since he woke up, S01's body feels cool. The air is chill against his bones.

He doesn't know if he's alive or dead any more. Is this death? Is it even being alive when your body is nothing but a vessel, a shell for others to use and discard as they please?

He lays there, unmoving, as the Doctor leaves. Listening to the soft sound of footsteps retreating into the distance, he wonders if he tries hard enough, maybe he could just not exist anymore.


End file.
